


Emily Prentiss a.k.a. Aunty bear

by EiwenMacLor



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, David Rossi - Freeform, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jennifer JJ Jareau - Freeform, LaMontagne's brothers, POV Emily Prentiss, Post-Canon, The BAU Team as Family (Criminal Minds)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28981086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EiwenMacLor/pseuds/EiwenMacLor
Summary: Emily Prentiss is protective of children, that's a given. She would cross the world to come to JJ's help, that's a known fact. What would she do if JJ's children were threatened?
Relationships: Jennifer "JJ" Jareau & Emily Prentiss
Comments: 7
Kudos: 12





	Emily Prentiss a.k.a. Aunty bear

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! This is my first Criminal Minds fic, my first work on AO3, and the first time I share one of my works. I'm not a native speaker but this was beta read! Feedback is appreciated!

* * *

"JJ?"

<Emily, listen to me. I have to go home. They are coming for the boys.>

Her focus sharpened. There was fear in her friend's voice and that alone was all she needed to act before discussing it any further. JJ was scared for her children and Emily channeled all of her assertiveness, hoping to be the rock her friend needed.

"I'm less than a mile from your house, I'll be there soon."

The unit chief didn't hesitate a second and pressed on the accelerator. She was coming back to Quantico from an interview. It was purely by chance that she was in the neighborhood but Emily wasn't going to let this luck be wasted.

"Brief me JJ."

She could feel at that moment how her colleague forced herself to be an efficient agent before being a frightened mother. From the sound of it, JJ was in a car too and Emily hoped that she wasn't the one driving. After a short inspiration, the flow of information came. That was linked to the case the BAU was consulting on for the MPD. Will was part of the raid on a location they had suspected to be a base of operation for the mob. The police were hot on their trail. Whoever was there left minutes only before the raid. The search of the place had yielded a piece of paper with several addresses. All of them of cops. Will and JJ's included. And the SSA added at that point that one of Will's most recent case was a murder that seemed to be linked to the mob.

<They want to pressure Will. The murder investigation is the most urgent of them all. I know they are planning to take our boys Emily.>

The unit chief heard the voice crack at the end of the sentence and her grip on the wheel tightened in response. Her words were infused with as much strength as she could give.

"JJ, you know I will not let them do that. If I can't take the boys with me to the BAU, I'll buy time. Trust me."

The answer was swift and JJ seemed to have regained control of her voice. Oh, how Emily could feel for her friend. Nobody would have faulted her for stumbling in these circumstances. Nobody but herself. Of course.

<I know. I do. I'm on my way with Mat.>

"Good. Who's with the kids?"

Emily was trying to keep her colleague on track, not giving her a second to pause and spiral. JJ had once told her how she felt herself freeze when she found her sister after her suicide and again during the case they had in her home town. She didn't want the blonde to freeze and feel guilty about it. So she did what JJ had asked her to do then, she gave her things to do.

<Sarah, the teenage daughter of our neighbors, is babysitting them. I'm calling her.>

"I'll call Mat as soon as I know where we stand. It will be okay JJ."

<You don't know that.>

"I know that we will do so that it will be okay. Call Sarah."

She hung up on that note. She was on the LaMontagne's residence street and needed all of her attention. Emily's eyes were scanning the neighborhood, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Maybe no one was coming to grab Henry and Michael, but a Prentiss was always prepared. In that case, Emily was preparing herself for the worst, and hoping for the best. She needed to be at the top of her game. She loved the two brothers, as much as she loved Hotch's son Jack. The unit chief was finding it both an incredible motivation and a paralyzing fear. Compartmentalizing would come in handy.

At first, the agent didn't see anything suspicious. She parked on the sidewalk near the house but not in a way that could reduce visibility on the street from the house. Prudent, she used the key JJ had once given her "just in case" rather than ring the doorbell. She knew they might not have a lot of time. Inside, the 16-something babysitter had sprung on her feet at the unexpected stranger but was immediately placated when both boys called the agent by name. The teenager still had her phone in her hand. If Michael was already coming happily toward "aunt Emily" for a hug, Henry seemed worried. The profiler knew him to be very attentive and intelligent. And, after all, he was the son of two law enforcement members... Obviously an unexpected visit from the colleague of one of them would be a major concern.

"Hi boys! Hi...Sarah, right?"

The agent had years of experience with young witnesses and victims, she knew how to project what children and teenagers craved in a crisis situation: the reassurance of a capable, trustworthy adult having things under relative control. For now, she would act as if it was only unusual but not as dangerous as it really was. The teenager nodded, visibly relieved but also kind of subdued, somehow feeling Henry's concern and understanding what it could mean. Emily took a second to look him in the eyes.

"Your parents are okay." She saw his relief as if it were a palpable entity. "But your mom asked me to take you to the office." Emily put her eyes on Sarah. "JJ called?"

"Yes Ma'am, the boys just need to put their shoes on."

The unit chief offered a warm smile to the babysitter. She was pretty level headed and it was a good thing. Her voice was clear. The profiler could see her apprehension but she was putting a pretty solid front for the children. Just as she was answering, they all could hear a vehicle park in the driveway leading to the garage. Emily felt Michael go for the door, probably thinking it was one of his parents and she tightened her arm around him.

"Wait a second buddy."

This time her voice was more strict as to make him feel that it was an important instruction to follow. Emily went to a window to check discreetly whose vehicle it was and couldn't help but let a small sigh go through her lips. God damn it. The next second, she had put back her collected mask on and was turning towards the children, nevermind her heart that was beating way too quickly suddenly.

"Change of plans. Listen to me, and listen carefully, it is very important. You are going to hide upstairs. Bad people are coming but you will be hidden."

The agent was looking to each of the three children, trying to convey some sense of security. She already knew she would die before letting any one of them be taken but the point was to make them trust her on this. Maybe not as dramatically, but still.

"I will not let them hurt you, okay? I just need you to stay hidden and be quiet." Emily looked at Sarah, who was very pale but looked determined. "Do not go out under any circumstances. Phone silent. You go out of hiding only if JJ or Will calls you. Got it?"

She quickly obtained the confirmation from each of the children, including Michael who visibly understood how serious all this was. That, more than anything else at that moment, was deeply comforting for her.

"Good. Now, go."

Emily sent a short message to Mat's cellphone while they climbed the stairs. From the window, she had seen an unknown van and three armed men. The agent knew she had only few seconds to spare before they reached the door. Her hand was on her weapon but she hesitated. She knew several children were playing outside in the neighboring front lawns and any shooting in the house could lead to a stray bullet hitting one of the children she had sworn to protect. There was also the fact that they were three and she was alone. She had seen automatic weapons and Emily was pretty sure a shooting wouldn't end well for her. That, in itself, was a risk she was willing to take but that meant letting the children without protection at all after that... Not a good plan either.

"Shit."

Her hand reluctantly let go of the handle of her gun. She looked at her phone where a new message from Mat was on screen. They were 10 minutes out. Ten minutes. Emily closed her eyes and called. During the brief moment it took for it to connect, her finger swiped to activate a recording app Penelope had installed on all their devices long ago. She wanted to keep a material evidence of what would happen, whatever was going to happen. Just in case... Before she could think about it, the call finally connected. She didn't let her colleagues talk and her voice was tense and clinical. For the next ten minutes, she wasn't allowed to make any mistake. The stakes were high.

"Mute on your side. Three men, automatic weapons. I stall. You listen. You'll know what happens."

She didn't even wait for any kind of answer, hid her microphone clipped at her bra, and put her phone behind a furniture, out of sight. The doorbell rang. Emily had to admit that it was wiser than just force the door. After all, it was a residential area, the police response was good and any suspect activity would certainly be flagged by a nosy neighbor. The agent took the opportunity to gain some more seconds and waited for another ring. Finally, even if she hated having to do that, Emily went to answer the door. The profiler didn't want to make them nervous if she had to manipulate them for several minutes. The door was barely open that the muzzle of a submachine gun was aimed at her chest. She froze her hand above her gun and feigned surprise.

"What..."

"Back inside, no sudden move."

There were simple enough instructions and Emily followed them, slowly, each move measured. What she didn't like was the calm and control imbued in this cold voice and the equally cold face of its owner. They weren't bothering hiding behind hoods or masks. That was a big bright red flag for her, but also for the children. They probably wouldn't let any witness behind, or they didn't care to be identified and had enough resources to be sure to be able to flee. The last man to enter closed the door behind him. The first one was keeping his eyes on her. She tried to install rapport.

"Who are you?"

"Shut up and keep your hands up."

The rebuttal was dry and clear. The profiler was studying them for now. The first one was keeping his gun on her, the second one was looking around and the third one was looking through the window. They were very organized and knew what they had to do.

"Where are the kids?"

"What?"

"Your kids!"

"I don't have any children."

The game was on and it was a fragile balance. She had to unsettle them but not too much. Each unexpected information, each unforeseen event would be a source of stress. Emily had to make them feel unprepared. Maybe then, they would hesitate. And hesitation would make them lose precious time.

"Do not lie to me!"

"I swear I'm not lying."

"Where are your children Jennifer?"

Emily feigned the realization.

"I'm not Jennifer. My name is Emily."

"Do not...!"

"I swear! You can check I have my badge in my pocket!"

A couple of seconds of silence passed, heavy with tension. Finally the second one let out a low "what the fuck", and Emily took it as a small victory. The same man was ordered to check her pockets, and take her gun while he was at it.

"She... she's telling the truth... And... She 's FBI."

"What?"

"Emily Prentiss, FBI. Look."

The profiler stayed silent and immobile. She could see the first man, visibly the undisputed leader, think. When he looked at her, his eyes were dangerous.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was just passing by... I work with Jennifer and she needed a change of clothes..."

"You're telling me that you being here is a coincidence?"

"Yes."

His eyes searched hers, and then went to her badge. The agent knew that giving up some truths was a perfect way to make some lies believable.

"LaMontagne's wife is FBI?"

"Yes? Supervisory special agent Jennifer Jareau?"

Her tone was slightly questioning, as if they were testing her, when she knew, from their behavior, that they just didn't have any idea about JJ's occupation prior to this moment. This time it was the third one, still watching outside, who let out a swear. The man in front of her was still looking her eyes intently, searching.

"He's a cop. She's FBI."

"Yes."

"You are a colleague here by coincidence."

"Yes."

"You do know they have kids."

Emily felt it was time for her to be more open, maybe seeming more helpful. If he was resorting to sarcasm, it meant he was starting to let some frustration get to him.

"Yes, of course."

"So, where are they?"

"I don't know, not here."

He clicked his tongue.

"You're sure?"

"Yes. I mean, I swear they aren't quiet ones, I would have heard them if they were here..."

She hoped her trembling voice and sudden rambling would be convincing evidences of the stress and sincerity she wanted to project. He took some more seconds to think and she tried again to return some questions.

"What... what do you want with them...?"

"Not your business."

"They're just children..."

"Tell that to their nosy dad."

"What does it.."

"No more questions."

The metal of the submachine gun made contact with her throat.

"Am I clear?"

"Crystal. Sorry."

He looked at her for a second before making a decision.

"Ok, we're going to sit and talk like civilized people. You are going to answer my questions."

Then he turned toward the second man and ordered him to bring a chair in the living room while he guided her there, gun on the small of her back. He made her wait for the chair and sat on the couch. The profiler saw how tense he was. The couch was comfortable. He had chosen it for that reason, because it was comforting. That was interesting. For her it would be the hard chair, a very classic setting for a more violent interrogation. He was trying to scare her. It might have worked with a civilian but he was underestimating her. Good for her.

The second man came back and put the chair behind her, guiding her roughly into a sitting position and staying behind her, out of sight but not of hearing. She could feel him, hear him breathe. She had to admit that it could be defined as unsettling, but the profiler knew they were the most unsettled at that moment.

"Where are the kids?"

"I don't know."

"Let's say I believe you. What do you know?"

"I don't... what do you mean?"

Playing dumb was always fun. In that case it was very risky but it still had some fun factor, and as always, Emily was properly amazed by how much she could be underestimated as a woman.

"Do you know if they have a sitter?"

"Probably..."

"Probably?"

"I mean yes. I think they do. They are too young to stay alone."

"Do you know where they could be?"

"No? I... I mean... There is a park nearby but I don't know if they go there often or not..."

"Did Jennifer mention anything?"

"I... Why would I tell you?"

She had to defy them, at least a little. He would have grown suspicious of too much cooperation from her. They were talking about children. Her colleague's children.

"Why? Because I will hurt you if you don't answer my questions."

"I... I'm a federal agent... you..."

"I nothing."

There was a brief silence and his face hardened.

"You seem like a reasonable person."

"I... think I am."

"I can deal with reasonable."

"How?"

"Proof."

That was the only warning she received before he stood up and hit her across the face with the butt of his weapon. She let out a short shout, half from surprise half from pain. Her hand went to the side of her face, she could feel the broken skin under her palm. He sat down as if it had been a perfectly neutral interaction.

"So... I will repeat myself just once: did Jennifer mention anything?"

"I..."

"Do you need more proof?"

"No!"

Emily let the pain shine through her voice, which she wouldn't have done usually. He had to think that she was terrified.

"She... I know the oldest was feeling ill those last days. She was upset that her husband couldn't stay at home... And she couldn't either."

"See? Progress. What would they do if one kid was unwell?"

"Sometimes she brings them at work..."

"Did she?"

"Not today..."

"So? Keep talking..."

"Maybe they left them with their godmother. I think she lives nearby..."

The man behind her let out a sigh. He then remarked that they couldn't barge into another house without preparation. Too many risks of complication. The leader seemed to think about it and finally nodded. The profiler noted that it was a dynamic relationship. He was making the decisions but he was also taking the advice and opinions of the two other. That was an interesting lever to play with.

"What do we do?"

"Let me think."

They stayed silent for a while. Emily could feel it, they were close to the breaking point. Soon, they would reconsider. Another problem would be what were they going to do with her, but that was a problem for future Emily. The profiler was rather proud of the turn of events. Another good thing was that time was passing and JJ and Mat probably were half way to the house.

The moment was broken by the unexpected ringtone of the landline phone. Emily cursed internally as the loud sound began to repeat itself. No more words were said among the henchmen and no one moved. Everything was suspended to this ringing. The unit chief knew the men were anxious. She had already pointed out to them every single detail that didn't go as planned and they were one more surprise away from bailing entirely. On the other hand, Emily was preparing herself for the storm. Whoever was calling wasn't aware of the situation and that was an unknown factor she didn't want to deal with. But she would have to. The seconds expanded the agonizing waiting. Finally, the electronic beep of the answering machine echoed in the silent house.

All of Emily's hopes that the caller would hang up were crushed by an unfamiliar female voice.

<Sarah, it's Mom. I tried to call you on your cell phone. I just wanted to remind you that we have a reservation tonight. I know you don't mind the extra sitting time but you can't stay too late today. Try to remember to plug your cell and call me back when you have this message. I know you're here, so stop avoiding me Sweetie.>

The unit chief felt her veins freeze over and an uneasy chill go down her spine. One word resonated in her mind. Fuck. Her rigid posture and stony face had not changed since the beginning of the message, giving her a controlled appearance. Which was exactly that. A facade. Her eyes stayed fixed on the wall in front of her. She had to remain calm. But fuck.

A second passed. And then the weight of three sets of eyes fell on her head. If looks could kill... She forced herself to not show any reaction. They were waiting for one. That much was obvious.

"So... The kids aren't here...Right?"

That was a new tone from the head of the trio. She didn't like it. The sarcasm and the sneer weren't doing anything to hide the anger. He was furious. At herself, for lying. And probably even more so at himself for believing her. But Emily would bet that he wasn't going to beat himself too hard... yet. The auto flagellation would come later, maybe. For now, he could be angry at her and so he would be.

She took an inspiration and opened her mouth before closing it without a sound. She could try to convince him, or to defend herself but that would not be a smart move. Any trust they might have had had been shattered. They were going to search the house even if she tried to deny. And trying to deny anything to this particular guy right now could worsen his anger issue. Defending herself at that point would probably lead to similar results. And if Emily was honest, she was not sure to be able to say anything sarcasm-free right now. Silence, at least, would not antagonize him... too much.

A fist hit her left cheek. The impact threatened to send her to the floor but she managed to maintain her balance. Half her face was pulsing with pain as she recovered. She was back in her initial sitting position when he struck again. This time she fell off the chair to the ground and a metallic tasting liquid spilled in her mouth.

"Hold her."

His tone was sharp and the hands grabbing and hauling her on her feet were rough. Her arms were kept in her back, leaving her exposed. For the first time since the call, she looked at her interrogator in the eyes. His face was betraying his need to regain some control over the situation. By lying to him, she had stripped him of that.

"Where are they?"

No way she was going to tell him anything. She could see what he was going for. He was making excuses to let his anger translate to his fists. Was he really hoping to gain anything from beating her? She doubted it. After all, they only had to search the house now. But apparently, she was worth wasting time. Had she bruised his ego that much?

And then, some part of her brain, the masochist part, noted that every second he was putting into beating her were seconds he wasn't using to find Henry and Michael. Unfortunately, the masochist part was making a pragmatic point and Emily was nothing if not pragmatic. That's how she decided to play the game.

"I don't know."

The back of his hand whipped her face. She couldn't help but to have a sense of deja vu. Between her beating by Benjamin Cyrus and her reunion with Ian Doyle, she had her fair share of previous experiences. Strangely, she noted that this time, the mechanics behind the violence were somewhat half way between them. Making a point and punishing her like Cyrus, searching for answers and punishing her like Doyle.

"You lied to me Emily."

The profiler in her identified the use of her first name as a red flag. It was not humanizing. It was used to make it personal, intimate. He could have used "agent" but choose to go straight for what he thought to be the weak civilian behind the badge. She could play into that. He wanted a power trip, she could let him believe he had one.

"I really don't know where they are!"

She put some desperation in her voice to press his buttons. In response, he punched her in the guts, making her gasp. She would have curled up if it wasn't for the man holding her from behind.

"Liar. Do you think I'm stupid Emily? Why are you here?"

The profiler took her time to recover her breath, answering only when threatened to be hit again. Every second she could gain was a small victory.

"I told you... My colleague asked me to grab some stuff for her because it was on my way..."

His hand went to her throat and he squeezed. His face was inches away from hers. She couldn't breathe anymore and at that moment she wondered if she had completely misread this man. Would he strangle her to death? Would it sit well with the two others? She had filed him as a control freak and a narcissist of some sort but was he a sadist? No. She believed in her initial profile. This was a power move. He wanted to frighten her, to let her feel as if he not only could but would end her life anytime. His eyes were watching hers but she couldn't see any pleasure in them, any excitement. Just anger, frustration and a need for control.

"So it's a coincidence. You were passing by... and you have no idea where the kids and the sitter are... Come on! You want me to believe that?"

He maintained his grip several seconds before finally letting go way before the FBI agent could lose consciousness. The sensation wasn't pleasant in any way for Emily and the wheezy quality of her breathing was making here cringe internally. His hand roughly grabbed a fist of her hair to guide her face in his direction.

"So... What will it be?"

Thinking fast, the unit chief opted to let him think she was abandoning the fight. Her voice was strained, tired. Resigned.

"I'm just telling you facts. I don't have proof. You can believe whatever you want."

He watched her a couple of seconds before hitting her again in the stomach. As she gasped, the man behind her let her go and she stumbled. Between being strangled and having her breath pushed out of her lungs, she didn't have to overplay her struggle to recover.

"I believe you're a liar Emily, and I hate liars."

She had just the time to ready herself when a fist hit her face again, sending her half on a coffee table, half on the ground. The profiler knew she had to take some blows and try to "play dead", or at least knocked out. The bet was ridiculous but it was the only thing she had in her sleeve. If they thought she was not a threat anymore, she may be able to do something. Half stunned she initiated a move to straighten when a foot got her side. She hadn't seen that one coming and her legs stopped supporting her weight.

The following seconds were a blur of blows received and discrete self preservation moves applied with varying degrees of efficiency. Finally she laid on the floor among some disturbed furniture, bloodied face, immobile and, for all they knew, non responsive.

"Come on, stop it. She's done. We don't need a fed corpse."

"Yeah, you're right... Fucking bitch."

"So... The kids... Their mother is a fed. Are we... okay with that? Because... I mean, pressuring cops is one thing but, bringing the feds to the fight... What do we do?"

"We have to stop this cop in his tracks, we don't have a choice. This one lied. Search the house, I'm keeping an eye on the street... just in case."

Two sets of footfalls left the room and Emily could hear the third one get away from her. She opened her eyes cautiously. Or tried to. Her left eye was beginning to shut. No one was in sight. That was good. Now, all she had to do was to get up. Her body wasn't going to make it easy. Slowly, she moved. And everything hurt. The unit chief had to control her breathing to not let any sound betray her. She was convinced that her injuries were mainly superficial but they were painful nonetheless. However, Emily didn't have the luxury to wallow. She had few minutes at best before any of them hit the jackpot and found the children.

Now crouching, she saw her interrogator looking through the window of the living room, his back to her. He was keeping his focus on the street. They had already stayed too long in the house and any suspicious vehicle could be noticed easily in this kind of neighborhood. He knew they were running out of time and the pressure was becoming heavy. The fear was giving him tunnel vision. The FBI agent he had just beaten up was already a distant thing in his mind. The profiler internally rejoiced.

He was less than ten feet away. Between them, the soccer trophies of Henry and JJ were displayed on a shelve.

Emily remembered how proud the oldest son was to win this one. And she fondly remembered how emotional JJ got when he insisted on putting her trophy next to his because it was obvious for everyone except JJ till this point that he wasn't proud to win the soccer tournament, he was proud because he had won a soccer tournament "like Mom". The memory really was a precious one.

If Henry's middle school trophy might be fragile, Emily had faith in JJ's varsity team trophy's build. Its marble base would make a perfect blunt weapon. Without losing a second, the unit chief grabbed it and struck her interrogator on the side of his head. Both stunned and surprised, he turned around trying to regain a very compromised balance and Emily greeted him with a second strike to the chin before doing her best to muffle his fall. She found it strange to be the one delivering that kind of blow for once but that was a thought for later.

He was unresponsive, on the ground, blood beginning to form a small puddle under his head. She checked his pulse and found one. Despite the adrenaline coursing in her veins and everything that man had done, the profiler registered relief.

Quickly, she searched him for weapons, taking back her own gun and separating his submachine gun from its magazine. She didn't have time to find her handcuffs. She would trust his probable concussion to keep him quiet for some time. They were two henchmen left and she had to protect the kids.

Emily took a short moment to listen for any sound in the house. One of them seemed to be on the first floor and the other was on the second floor. Her priority would be the latter, because the children were upstairs.

Every step hurt.

Climbing the stairs wasn't an issue in itself. Climbing the stairs quickly while doing it stealthily, that, was a difficult task for her current body. She did the best she could. She wouldn't let three children at the mercy of an armed gangster.

When she arrived at the top of the stairs, crouched to mask her presence, she saw him in the hallway, trying to break down a door. At his first impact on it, she heard whimpers coming from this room. The children were there. Before he could try a second time, she raised her gun and stood up.

"Hey!"

Not too loud, but enough to catch his attention. She just waited for him to react and face her, to have a clean shot. She pressed the trigger twice. He was dead before he touched the ground. Emily didn't waste any second and covered the feet between them. From habit, she kicked his gun out of his hand before ordering the kids to stay hidden. As soon as the words left her mouth, the profiler heard someone quickly climbing the stairs. The last henchman. She ducked in the room opposite to the one hiding the kids.

As the footsteps closed in, Emily was deciding what she was going to do. Trying to gain a visual on him was taking a big risk of getting shot. Too big. And without visual, the unit chief wasn't going to use her gun. There were three children nearby and any missed shot could be a lost bullet for them. No gun policy meant she had to disarm the last aggressor. Her pounding headache and reluctant body weren't finding this plan promising. That wasn't going to be easy. But she didn't have a choice.

Time was up.

Two things happened at the same time.

He called out for his dead colleague, giving her his approximate position, which was at arm's length, just around the corner, and she heard several cars pulling up outside.

Reinforcements were here. But they would never reach him before he finished to smash the door in and find the LaMontagne brothers and their babysitter. She had to gain at least a little more time.

Time was up.

Emily jumped from the room and rammed into the henchman. They struggled messily for several seconds, the width of the hallway not giving them a lot of room. One push from the profiler was the final blow for the door-frame and the man fell into the children's hiding room. His gun gliding a few feet away from him. The unit chief saw him scramble, half standing, to reach the weapon. Behind him the large window was giving the scene an overexposed quality compared to the narrowness of the hallway. She couldn't let him grab that gun. Not now. Not with the children at risk.

She pushed on her legs with all her might. That was a messy move. A part of her brain told her it would have a very messy result too but it was irrelevant. He didn't register her movement before it was too late. She impacted him in a way that would have made Derek Morgan proud. A tackle worthy of the NFL.

She heard more than felt the glass of the window break.

The next thing she knew, they weren't in the room anymore. One thought was at the front of her mind: the kids would be all right.

She heard confusing cracking sounds.

She found fascinating that, even if at that exact moment she didn't have any idea of where, or in what situation she was, some part of her brain was able to clearly label those cracking sounds as bones. Were they hers? She had no clue.

Everything was bright. Then dark.

Pain.

She was outside.

"Emily!"

David Rossi's voice.

Some things stuck to her. She was at JJ's. The kids were safe. She had been inside and now she was on the grass, outside. Apparently on her back. How? ... Oh... Yeah. Messy results. Yeah. She had tackled him through the window. She remembered. Not her brightest idea. Definitely very messy.

"Emily."

Dave's voice was a lot closer than the first time she had heard it. He seemed worried. Like, a lot. Maybe because she wasn't answering and had yet to open her eyes? Come on Prentiss, don't let him hanging like that. Her first try at talking resulted in a wheezy garble. Very reassuring Emily, well done.

"It's okay, don't move."

Her second try went better and her eyes, well the one not shut by a massive black eye, opened.

"Dave..."

"There you are. Don't move. We called an ambulance."

She saw him straighten and instinctively made a move to grab him which was both moderately successful and downright painful. Hence another grunt. But she didn't want him to leave. His face above her was anchoring her. Her head was pounding and a lot of things were blurry both visually and metaphorically.

"Hey, what did I just say? Don't move."

There was both worry and a fatherly quality to his tone and his expression that warmed Emily's heart. She needed that right now.

"Stay."

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm just answering to JJ. She's worried about you."

And now that he told her, among the blur, she could recognize clearly her friend's voice. It was coming from above but she was not close like Dave. Several other voices were blending together around her but it was as if instinctively, she knew they weren't addressing her, so her focus wasn't on them. The blonde called her name and she could hear what she was saying.

"Emily! Rossi, how is she?"

Half a chuckle fell from her lips and she looked at the senior of their team. She knew she wasn't fine, but she couldn't be that bad. She was responsive wasn't she? JJ didn't have to worry about her. Henry and Michael were probably frightened. They needed their mother. Emily was fine with Dave.

"Tell her... to stay... with the kids... and sorry... for the mess."

That made the Italian American laugh and he looked up to JJ who was talking from the now open second floor.

"She's joking."

"I'm not-"

The exclamation died in a painful whimper. How could he not know she was serious?

"Okay, okay, calm down. She's telling you to stay with the boys."

He seemed to relent but he was still not telling JJ was she had said. That frustrated her when at the same time, she couldn't exactly explain why that was so important... A pressure from Emily's hand on his made him sigh, resigned, and swear in Italian for good measure. To which she answered with a short " _dille e basta_ "* before he transmitted the second part of the message.

"Oh my God. Emily, you can't be serious right now!"

The tone was half disbelief, half wonder. The brunette felt divided about it. What was it about thinking about the damages she caused, the window she destroyed, that was that surprising? But some part of her mind kept telling her that it would be better to talk about it later. Emily knew that she was missing something important. God that headache was frustrating.

"Emily, it isn't important right now, believe me."

"Dave, please, humor me."

"Did you hit your head?"

"Why? It doesn't change... the fact that... I'm sorry... for the mess."

"Understood. Please, just... calm down. JJ, she's sorry for the mess, whatever that means."

"That's it! Mat, could you... Thanks."

Dave was looking at Emily with fond exasperation, mixed with now well hidden preoccupation. But even concussed, she knew him well. Was what she was missing that important? Wait... She did received blows to her head. That was it?

"You had to go and poke the bear."

The brunette knew JJ was the bear here but she couldn't understand what she had done to "poke" her.

"What?"

"Come on Emily, there are far more serious matters right now..."

"I don't... It's just what comes to mind..."

What was she missing? The frustration was increasing. Did something happen that she couldn't remember? Did something happen to the kids that she didn't catch?

"The kids are okay, right?"

She was absolutely convinced the kids were safe but at the same time, Emily's mind was particularly foggy. It reminded her of the car crash and the evasion years ago. She was definitely concussed. And she missed entirely the look of realization of David Rossi's face.

"Emily, calm down. The kids are okay, they're safe, they're fine. Trust me."

He was placating, smoothing. She was confused but she could trust Dave. He wouldn't lie to her nor sugarcoat things. That was good.

"Okay... Oh! There is a recording... My phone..."

Another random thought. Why was she thinking about this right now? She couldn't retrace her mental process, and maybe that was what she was missing. How Dave could follow her if she couldn't do it herself... Emily realized she probably was still somewhat disoriented or confused. Or both. And the headache wasn't helping.

"You used your phone to keep JJ informed."

"Yes..."

"And you recorded the call?"

"Yes..."

"I understand, it's okay."

Without discussing it any further he passed the information on to Luke. Was Luke there the whole time? She didn't register his presence. But Dave was compliant now. She counted it as a win and felt calmer. He was listening to her. Still.

"JJ, she's concussed and confused."

Dave's tone was both informative and a clear warning. He wasn't going to let anyone mess with Emily. Even the original Mama bear.

"I suspected it."

JJ's voice was softer than before and when she kneeled on the other side of Emily, her face was a mix of emotions. The blonde always acknowledged more her feelings. The unit chief found it way more sane than her extreme compartmentalizing. Tears were pooling in those blue eyes and Emily's first impulse was to comfort her friend. Then, she saw that they weren't negative tears. Blue eyes scanned her, brows frowning slightly, before stopping at the unit chief's eyes.

"Emily, I want you to listen to me carefully. I understand if it's a little hazy right now, but what I'm going to tell you is the most important thing you have to remember."

The brunette focused her attention on her friend. JJ was controlled and the tone was serious. She did as asked and tried to let go of all the current pieces of random thoughts going through her mind.

"Me. Listening."

"Emily, you saved my children. I cannot thank you enough. Without you we have no idea where they could be right now and..."

The blonde cut herself off before losing her thread to what ifs.

"Thank you. That's all I care about. I don't give a damn if I have to clean a little extra a couple of rooms or replace some things. I can't replace my children, and I can't replace you."

The unit chief might have been confused and in pain but she could see the great deal of vulnerability in her friend's eyes and all over her face. The last dozen of minutes were so tense and heavy from her perspective but Emily couldn't fathom what this lapse of time had felt from JJ's part. Not being able to do anything, all the time in the world to second-guess every move and decision of the day to find a better scenario... The brunette understood the weight of JJ's words but something wasn't quite right.

"You don't have to thank me JJ."

"I swear to God Emily..."

"That's what family do."

They were family. And Emily wouldn't hesitate doing it again. Even if it cost her more, she would do it again. The past showed how far the unit chief was willing to go to protect children, how much she cared. But that wasn't even considering that the BAU was her family, and that included their families.

Roughly ten years ago she had come close, two seconds close, to blow up because Will was family. She had jumped in a plane, leaving everything behind, to find a kidnapped JJ, and she had not slowed down for a second when assisting her in the rooftop showdown, never mind plunging to grab her friend at the edge of the building. When Hotch had called her back to help the team through a rough patch, she had let go of her Interpol position without much of a fuss. She had taken the lead, however uncomfortable she was with that at the time because the team needed it. In Mexico, she had crossed the line for Spencer, to save his chance for a fair treatment. That was without mentioning how she found him one of the best attorneys of the country, calling personal favors. She had resisted Mr. Scratch's mind games rather than giving him any piece of information regarding Hotch or Jack. She had tried to be the blown fuse to Barnes's enquiry. That had failed spectacularly but she had tried. Finally, the year before, she confronted Dave, their father figure, when he stumbled despite his initial rebuttal, and imposed the team's help on him until he accepted it.

Because they were family.

And JJ knew it. She understood that that particular thought wasn't born from a confused concussed mind. No, that was all Emily.

"I really could hug you."

"Please don't... That probably would be painful..."

That mention, however lightly said, brought back the blonde's focus on her state. That much was obvious from the way the blue eyes scanned her again. Emily also felt Dave's hand pressing hers to gain her attention.

"Speaking of... how are you feeling? You took quite a fall here."

His warm voice was cautious. As if he didn't want to upset her, or maybe because he, himself, was upset by the situation. For the first time since landing on the grass, Emily took a moment to try to gather some clues about her physical state.

She was in pain. That much she knew.

Left eye blackened. That was already filed too.

Her right hand could grip Dave's without any red flag. But she remembered that moving her arm was painful.

Her left hand... No. Nope. That hurt. Copy. Not moving that one. She couldn't see it but JJ simply confirmed her that her wrist was broken. For once, Emily couldn't decipher from her friend's tone and face if it was really bad or just really obvious.

Cautiously she moved one foot, then the other, with only moderate pain in one knee. Again, she couldn't see her own legs but Dave confirmed that she had moved. She suddenly felt relieved, even if she hadn't considered the possibility of nerve damage until that moment.

So far, the news weren't that bad. Again, the fall wasn't from a very high point and her opponent probably had taken the worst of it.

"I don't think I hurt my back... But breathing hurts."

"You may have cracked some ribs."

That was Dave's calm conclusion. He was simply putting her sensations into clear words without any obvious emotional reaction. She realized that she was calm and more compliant than in previous occurrences. The oldest member of their team really had a good effect on her. 

"It already hurt... before the fall."

Dave simply nodded but JJ frowned, visibly understanding that he was missing something.

"They beat her up."

JJ's precision made Dave recoil and then sigh. The Italian was torn between anger and concern when the injured woman interjected from her prone position.

"You should see... the other guys."

"Emily please, could you drop the sarcasm?"

"Never."

That made all three of them chuckle. The brunette knew that displaying her usual wits was reassuring them and she was starting to regain some of her bearings.

"It's probably looking worse than it is."

"Good. Because you look like hell."

"Always the charmer David Rossi."

* * *

Emily was relaxing in a comfortable seat, enjoying the simple joy of being able to turn her head without having to rotate her entire body to follow the match of the century that was being played in front of her. A smile was gracing her lips. Team Jareau and team Simmons were trying to prove their superiority in the fine art of... Emily wasn't a specialist but it looked like something between football and soccer. Were they reinventing rugby? Either way it was really good to see all of them enjoying the late afternoon warmth. The air smelled of the flowers Krystall had put in Rossi's vast garden but it was slowly overpowered by the tasty smell of properly barbecued meat. The unit chief felt her mouth water. The senior of their team was once again showing off his cooking maestria. She wasn't going to complain about that.

The last two weeks had been hard for her, but for them too. It always was when one of them was down. Emily was wholly embracing being outside after the three-day stay at the hospital -God she hated hospitals- and the days being cooped up in her apartment, in pain and restrained by a neck brace in addition to her wrist plaster. Of course she had never been really alone. Each day a new member of the team had came, taking turns making sure she didn't need anything and didn't overexert herself. She would never admit that it would have probably -surely- been the case without supervision. If she had begrudgingly accepted at first, faced with a dead serious Tara who didn't let any crap faze her, she had come to embrace and enjoy it. Yes, she had tried to send JJ back to her boys but the blonde had just told her "no" and stayed. Well, after that, Emily didn't fight their care anymore.

Now, they were all at Rossi's. Emily had suggested it. They needed to make good memories after the difficult ones. The only tragedy for the convalescent unit chief was her still active ban from alcohol because of the drugs she was taking. All internal bleeding had subsided, her broken ribs were healing, her head wasn't killing her anymore, her wrist would heal in some weeks and the bruises were slowly fading. In a couple of days, she was to come back to work, on desk duty of course, and still not allowed any plane travel. But she would be okay. They all would.

She was letting her eyes take in every member of that makeshift family. On her second day at the hospital, Will, JJ and the boys had come to visit. JJ had explained to her that the boys were very worried about her and even if she "still looked like hell", seeing her would do them good. And it did, but not only to them. Their hugs and the drawings they both did helped the injured woman to stay sane in a hospital that was only reminding her of particularly darker times. Somehow, Emily knew without having to ask that JJ knew perfectly what she was doing that day.

Suddenly a loud victorious roar got her attention back to the game. Luke was lifting a particularly happy Michael above his head, the boy throwing his arms in the air as if he had just won the world championship. Emily chuckled. Team Jareau was leading. Of course it wasn't surprising knowing that team Simmons was composed of four children and an adult whereas the former included only the two LaMontagne brothers and three adults. Something was to be said about fairness when one of those adults was a former soccer champion... But well, Mat's children didn't seem upset at all, so it maybe wasn't that important after all.

A familiar colorful shape approached the brunette and Emily saw a glass of an as colorful liquid appear in front of her.

"Virgin, of course."

"Penelope Garcia, you're the best."

The ex analyst waited for Emily to have a good grip on the glass before letting it go. It was subtle but the agent felt it and thanked her friend with a smile.

"I know Brunette Goddess of Badassery, I know."

Penelope sat next to her. She and Luke had come together and Emily couldn't be happier for the hacker. She had a smile in her voice was she asked about it.

"So... You and Luke?"

"No dear friend, we're not doing that."

Taken aback by the seriousness of her friend's tone, Emily's head snapped toward her a little too quickly, making her wince for a brief instant.

"Em, you're okay?"

The contrite tone was again very Penelope-like and the unit chief was having a new kind of whiplash that wasn't involving her cervical vertebrae. She reassured the blonde incarnation of a sunshine that she had just moved too fast and everything was okay. The pinch had come and gone and Emily was looking at her friend, concerned.

"I feel like I should ask you that question PG..."

"Sorry... That was a little too abrupt but I didn't want to let you deflect..." A small nod from the unit chief encouraged her to keep going. "Emily Prentiss, you scared me."

"Oh... I'm sorry Pen. Truly. I know that is a serious crime, and no, I'm not really joking. I'm really sorry to have worried you."

Emily poured as much sincerity as you could both in her words and her eyes, trying to decipher what was happening in the head and beautiful heart of the blonde. Penelope held her gaze a moment before letting out a sigh.

"It's just... Could you please stay alive and well? Is it too much to ask my faithful-to-a-fault friend?"

The brunette smiled with understanding and offered a hug to the other woman. They all had scars from their numerous years working at the BAU, tracking the most violent people, seeing the worst of human behavior. There was no judgment to pass among them for sometimes needing a little more time to digest things. And Emily had learned, with them, how much a good hug could say and do. Penelope Garcia had dispensed her wisdom about it, again and again over the years, welcoming them with open arms each and every time they needed it. The unit chief was happy to give her friend what she needed to heal right now.

When they separated, the blonde quickly wiped a lonely tear from her eyes.

"I'm just wondering why sometimes... Why you always put yourself in harm's way..."

Emily smiled again, with warmth and tenderness. With a small move of her head she encouraged her friend to follow her gaze and let it wander to the two blond boys currently tackling their mother because, apparently Emily had missed a big change of rules in this game. They were laughing.

"You see that Pen? That's exactly why I did what I did and why I would absolutely do it again."

They both kept their eyes ahead, on the joyful display and Emily felt the head of her friend gently come to rest upon her shoulder.

"You, Emily Prentiss, are an Aunty Bear."

A big smile split the face of the ambassador's daughter.

"And don't you forget it."

**Author's Note:**

> * translation from Italian: just tell her already


End file.
